Repressed guilt
by mtm
Summary: Mild spoilers for "Always bet on red". My take on where Jane's increasingly frazzled nerves might lead him.


**A/N:** Mildly spoilery for "Always bet on red". A short snippet how Jane might lose it as he was clearly getting frayed around the edges in this episode. I just wonder how long he will carry on staying sane… And thanks to all the readers of my previous fics, your reviews are much appreciated!

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><p>Early morning crispiness still lingered in the air when she walked along the bridge. The sky was clear blue but the winter moon was still visible and the chilling wind was gusting about making her to pull her coat more tightly around her.<p>

When the call had come earlier in the morning, she grabbed the first thing to wear in her haste and luckily it had been a thick winter coat. Her jeans were thick enough to withstand the wind, but she hoped now that she had a scarf and gloves, but then she hadn't wanted to waste time looking for them.

She had been afraid of this call for some time now as he had been getting more agitated and more guilt ridden and frazzled around the edges and it was clear that he was trying to undo the damage he had caused. However his methods of solving the problems included framing an innocent man as a murderer so it was not surprising that he was slowly falling apart.

She had tried to help, but it hadn't been welcome.

Until this morning.

A ringing cellphone had woken her up and still half asleep she had answered. A silence has greeted her and then a quiet "Lisbon" had woken her up like someone had thrown cold water on her.

She had managed to get his location while dressing and collecting her car keys and here she was now, trying her best to stop a tragedy.

When she came within few meters of him, she forced herself to stop and observe instead of rushing to him.

The hunched figure was sitting on the metal rail facing the river, his back towards the road. He was wearing his customary three piece suit but no coat and was shivering in the cool morning.

Three geese emerged under the bridge, flying along the river and disappearing around the river's bend as both of them watched in silence. The wind was rustling his blond curls while her darker hair was dancing around her face. There was no one else in sight.

He was lost in thought, staring at the slowly winding river underneath his feet.

She walked slowly towards him and leaned against the rail to look down at the river.

"Jane," she acknowledged trying to hide the tremor in her voice.

"Lisbon," he answered quietly and the bewilderment and pain was evident in his voice.

"I'm glad you called me," she continued.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," he confessed shivering, bowed head lowering further.

"I keep trying to catch up with Red John and all the lies and I'm losing the race," he continued.

"I'm running and running and I'm falling more behind," he said voice breaking.

He still hadn't looked at her. It felt like he was trying to hide from her, but something must have compelled him to share all of this and to reach out to her.

"I haven't felt like this since I was released from the mental hospital, but now I'm wondering whether I should stop the games and remove myself from the equation and let Red John win," he said slowly and before she could say anything, he continued, "I would be letting my family down, but recently I have been thinking whether they would approve of my methods, of hurting so many people to get my revenge and I realized that they would be appalled."

She turned towards him, still leaning against the rail and trying to control her racing heart. She reached out and touched his arm, she needed to ground him and try to get him down from the rail. It would be just typical if he fell into the river by accident.

"Jane. Red John is not your fault. He is a wicked man who has committed many murders. What you have tried is to bring him to justice," she said with conviction.

"You have tried to protect people from him and even if some of your methods are not very conventional, you have had the best intentions," she said trying to get him to look at her.

He just shook his head without looking at her. All the energy seemed to have escaped him and he was deflating in front of her eyes, ever so slowly tipping forwards on the rail.

She tried to think fast what to say to stop him and nothing came to her mind. In a panic, instinctively, she stepped behind him and circled her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his cold back. He froze.

Some time passed and when he finally covered her hands with his larger, cold hands, she felt a glimmer of hope.

They stayed in the frozen embrace until their breathing had synchronized and his back started to warm up in close contact with her.

"Please, Jane. Come with me," she mumbled against his back after a long silence.

She could feel him taking a deep shuddering breath and then he slowly leaned backwards and climbed down from the rail while she still kept her hands on him, not letting go once the contact had been established.

And there he was; a pale, sad looking man with a red rimmed, grief filled eyes, looking finally into her eyes and letting her see everything. Finally releasing all the control over his emotions and being naked in front of her.

She took one step closer and circled her arms around him and hugged him tightly to her and was relieved when he held her just as tightly.

"Thank you Lisbon," he whispered to her ear.

"You are welcome Jane," she answered.

This was the first step in healing and they would face many obstacles and setbacks, but for now she was deeply relieved that he was here, in her arms, instead of floating in the cold, winter river.

**The end**


End file.
